A/N: Orright. It's been a good three years solid since I've posted here, and that was under another name and in a different fandom. This is very different from my old stuff but still carries my usual drawn-out, slow-moving, somewhat dark and morbid feel. This is also pre-beta (I've only re-read it once), so if you want to post a long review with any corrections or comments, please do. I'll most likely repost with edits :3
Also…yes, this is yet another death fic. Yes, there are already several up on the same theme at the moment. Yes, I was blatantly inspired by them. No, this is not fanfic plagiarism. However, if any authors of similar stories feel like having a go at me, fair enough, you're welcome to.
Summary: This is an Initial D fanfiction, set post 4th Stage. The rest will fall into place as the story continues onward, you'll find out for yourself; all you need to know at this point is that 4th stage is complete.
Disclaimer: The usual. Initial D is the property of Suichi Shigeno, not me. I'd LIKE to own Takumi and Ryosuke…but meh. Tough luck eh.
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Another quiet night by Lake Akina. A typical summer evening, with humid heat mingling with the cool breeze washing in from the water opposite a sleepy little village. It had been so long since the peace had been disturbed on a regular basis that Akina residents had grown used to this quiet existence.
In fact, disturbances down here were rather rare altogether, given any time of day.
Tonight looked to be yet another uncomfortably warm yet somewhat sleepy Saturday night, with the youths of the area heading into the nearest times to release their rampant noise and energy. Gone were the days where these mountains were plagued with the roars of highly tuned engines and screams of tyres breaking traction. Gone were the days where the weekend smelled like acrid tyre smoke and high octane petrol.
Something had happened that had shaken the lives of a large majority of the youth community on the entire island. What used to be a strong racing breed had all but completely dissipated into the more widely known drinking and partying culture, cars becoming nothing more than methods of transport for many young people.
Still, some continued on undeterred. Locals to mountain passes that still found the smell of burning rubber familiar would say, oddly enough, that the continued racing activities were out of…respect.
One of the few that still continued to race was a slightly heavy-looking young man, standing beside an old white Levin in a parking gallery at the top of one of Akina's passes. A taller, more slender young man had posted himself against a green S13, and was casually chatting to the limited company.
"I don't get why we still do this," the slimmer of the pair sighed, "It's been over two years since there was even any decent racing to speak of."
"Pfft." The shorter youth snorted, leaning heavily against the aging body of his Toyota. "It's not like we have any reason not to, don't you think Itekani-sempai? I mean, considering…"
Itekani sighed, slightly flustered. "I know, I know. Out of respect, they say. Itsuki…" He paused a moment, deep in thought. "Itsuki, I think this tradition is just going to have to die a natural death."
Itsuki winced at the word choice there. "Everyone else may have given up…but I never will!" Over-dramatic as usual, Itsuki stiffened up, straightened his posture and sniffed deeply. "He'd want us to race. He'd want me to race!" The emotion in his eyes was more than palpable. "Are you with me or against me?"
Itekani simply rolled his eyes and sighed again. "Itsuki…you need to sleep more often. It works wonders for one's sanity." Still, he moved aside to open his driver's door, then slipped down into the seat.
After Itsuki had done the same, the two cars roared to life with great furor. The Levin led the way out of the gallery with the Silvia in tow; the pair meandered their way to the left side of the road, lining up one behind the other, and began moving slowly down the mountain.
Pale moonlight basked down upon the two vehicles as the suddenly picked up speed, the cry of the two engines piercing the warm summer night air. The Levin in the lead let out the distinctive whine of a small turbo as it climbed higher and higher towards the redline and emitted a noisy squeak as it changed into second gear. The blow-off valve's shrill squeak echoed off the rocks and bushes of the mountainside as the two vehicles screamed on.
As the first of the corners began, the Silvia swiftly drew closer to the Toyota. The two moved in perfect harmony in passing the first corner; the Silvia was on the Levin's tail as the first hairpin came roaring up towards the pair. The flash of two sets of tail lights, separated only by split seconds, illuminated the road and Armco barriers just before the corner – a second later, both vehicles nosed in tightly towards the corner, purposefully over-steering and kicking the rear of the cars out with a squealing, smoking cacophony of traction loss. There were mere feet between the two cars as they drifted, in perfect synchronous, around the hairpin.
Graceful yet ferocious were two words anyone watching could draw to describe this battle. It was so well orchestrated, so elegant, yet the movements of the two vehicles as they took corner after corner of the mountain pass was as violent as any race. It seemed as if no one had the upper hand – the Levin led the whole way, yet the Silvia stuck to its back bumper with no apparent desire to attempt a pass.
Corners, straightaways and hairpins passed as the pair descended the mountain at an alarming rate. The silence of the night was penetrated by the incessant noises from the race – squeals, screeches, rev-syncing and heavy accelaration echoed about the haunted peaks under the heavy white moonlight.
As the slopes became steeper and the corners grew tighter, the climax of the course arrived with its usual splendour. A series of three tight hairpins hit the two racers one after another, the pair taking to them with their usual grace and harmony, side by side. A wider hairpin followed before a short straight, then a final hairpin before a much longer, faster straightaway along the side of the mountain. The speeding vehicles seemed to pull right back in passing this final corner, though the immediately regained their pace once past.
With the Levin still leading, the two sped on. Itsuki, perched firmly in the driver's seat of the Toyota, had long since broken into a cold sweat during the race; beads of salty perspiration had begun to trickle from his forehead down the sides of his face; one drop had beaded at the tip of his nose. He kept his eyes set on the straightaway, deep in concentration. After all, it was just the most brief lapse of it that meant the difference between life and death around here.
Eyes fixated forward, one would be forgiven for missing something on the side of the road. However, even though the racing scene had died almost completely, Itsuki had taken it upon himself to improve – in both skill and vigilence. His keen eyes would not miss the figure standing by the side of the road, watching the two vehicles flying past with inherent boredom.
"Gyaah!" He cried out loudly, grasping the steering wheel in a deathgrip between both hands and jerking his foot off the accelarator. The turbo stopped spooling as the blow-off valve let out a loud hiss – a sound that provoked the chasing driver to stamp on the brakes firmly to avoid a fender-bender.
Itsuki whipped his head around to where he saw the figure standing.
Nothing.
Realising his eyes were off the road for way too long, he snapped his attention back to the task at hand and veered back onto the left side of the road, his breathing taking on a far more rapid pace. The sound of the turbocharged Levin's engine faded into nothingness, giving way to the steady, heavy thump of his own heartbeat and laboured, shaky gasps for air. What the hell was that?
He took the next corners at a far more relaxed pace before he pulled into the nearest parking gallery. He could feel his heart pumping just below his jaw. It made him overwhelmingly nauseous.
The Silvia pulled in behind him, its owner leaping out almost too quickly for his own good – he had to compensate for the sudden lack of balance lest he fall flat on his face. Stumbling, he ran to Itsuki's door and bashed his hand repeatedly against the driver's window.
"Itsuki…what the hell happened back there? Are you alright?" Itekani's voice was shrill with panic and concern.
Itsuki continued staring forward, breathing hard yet white as a ghost.
"Itsuki!" He hit the window hard enough to make the car shake, yet not hard enough to break the glass.
Finally Itsuki looked up at his fellow racer…the panic in his eyes subdued, and he took it upon himself to reach for the window handle to wind it down.
"Itekani-sempai…" He drew a breath. "You know how you were saying I should get some more sleep?"
He nodded.
"You were right…I should go to bed. It's nearly 2am and I think I'm seeing things…"
He lowered his eyelids incredulously. "Such as?"
"I…I…I…" Itsuki stammered, trying to find his vocabulary. "I think I saw a ghost."
That last word sent chills down Itekani's spine. Things like that were not to be joked about! He grunted in response. "Yep, you're right…go to bed, Itsuki. And lay off the coffee tomorrow…"
"H-hai…I need sleep."
"Oh, and uh…" Itekani paused before moving from the window of the Toyota. "Let's not do this anymore. I think our days of racing here are pretty much over."
Itsuki couldn't disagree, and nodded solemnly. After seeing that figure just after the final hairpin…that was enough of a sign to him to let it go.
Itekani patted the roof of the Levin a couple of times before retreating to his own vehicle, starting the engine and heading calmly out of the parking gallery. He'd had enough for one night – more than one night – and wanted nothing more than a cosy pillow and blanket to crash on.
Itsuki watched the green Silvia leave. His hands were still visibly shaking against the steering wheel, the beads of sweat dripping down his features suddenly cold. What he had seen had frightened him, but for good reason.
Everyone in Akina would have reacted in the same way, had they seen what he had seen.
Any keen racer is able to soak in details of their environment, should they have any skills at all. Itsuki had improved in the last year or so to the point that he too could pay attention to more than one thing.
He had soaked in almost every detail of the figure by the side of the road.
Perhaps it was just the bright moonlight that gave the figure an otherworldly glow, but Itsuki was convinced otherwise. It was that very moonlight that had allowed him to see everything he needed to; the figure was that of a young man, possibly around twenty years old. Messy brunette locks of hair partially covered the figures face and ears, though striking brown eyes still gazed out with a bored, almost blank expression as they had passed by him earlier. A loose shirt and jeans were also clearly visible in the evening light, as was the figure's lithe, almost skinny appearance.
There was no doubt in Itsuki's mind that he'd just seen the ghost of one of Japan's most respected late and great street racers. That was a fact that frightened him beyond belief…but more importantly, brought more pain than he wished to ever endure again.
Still, curiosity was strong enough to overwhelm even the greatest pain he could have felt at this very moment. The question 'why' kept on performing donuts in his mind, carouselling around that immense curiosity and begging it to go forth and search for an answer.
The night's air had taken a turn as the wind kicked up gradually, its cooler breeze floating casually through the cabin of the old Toyota. Itsuki shivered dramatically and grasped his biceps with opposing hands; he couldn't decide what the cause of it was, but liked to think it was simply the cool wind. With time dragging on, the ticking of his cooling motor was growing slower and slower – reality kicked in at this point, reminding the chubby young man that he could sit here forever, staring out at the view back to the city until the sun rose, or he could move on.
A large yawn overcame him, threatening to choke him. Ah, it was moments like these that always left him known as the local comic relief. And oh how he hated it – yes he was awkward and frequently a clumsy oaf, but it didn't mean he didn't want some respect. And respect was hard to get nowadays – he had to stick up for himself, after all, and not rely on someone else to step in all the time. Life moves on – people get older, people leave…
…and people die.
That thought sent his mood crashing back down again. Momentarily letting his mind lapse into the most morbid of memories, Itsuki's eyes began to sting with tears. Horrible memories they were, too.
Those thoughts themselves led him on to another – seeing this ghost, perhaps it had a deeper meaning. It had, after all, been a while since he had paid his respects. It had been two years since Akina had changed forever…it was inevitable that people would begin to leave it behind, possibly begin to forget.
But not Itsuki. He made a promise that he would never forget and never let anyone else forget. After all, why the hell else would he be up at this god-awful hour of the morning, ruining his tyres?
It was decided. With a decisive grunt, he reached to turn the white Levin's ignition on; the engine roared to life once more and settled down to a happy purr. No time was wasted sitting in idle; Itsuki immediately dipped the clutch, popped the shifter into first gear and pulled out of the gallery, heading back the way he came.
A slow, steady climb back up the menacing curves of Akina's most well-raced road led the young man back towards the hairpins. Upon reaching the end of the straight he pulled the Toyota over to the side of the road, bashed the hazard lights on, switched the engine off again and climbed out. Outside, it was obvious the night air had cooled as the humidity dropped…he shivered again, shaking his head about noisily in doing so. Why was he doing this again?
Clouds had begun to graze across the path of the moon, occasionally blocking most of the light it cast down on the sleeping Earth below. Letting out a slow breath into the cold night air, Itsuki squinted through the dark and strolled towards the hairpin at the very end of the straight. The Armco barrier at its sharpest point had been replaced a while ago; short tyre trails led to the very centre of the repaired section.
Itsuki's hands rested against the top of the shiny new Armco as he gazed into the area beyond it; a few tall trees, shrubbery, and behind all of the foliage, a brick retaining wall holding the road above in place. The shrubbery where he stood was young, perhaps only two years old or so. The surrounding trees had obviously been damaged at some point, and one had since died, its grey old branches hanging lifelessly beside its fellow bushes.
He knew that there had been several cars parked on the wrong side of this barrier. The thought gave him that horrible nauseous sensation again…such a terrible accident had been. Drunken, violent drivers should never be allowed on the road.
A single tear fell from his cheeks. It was true, Akina would never be the same without him. The loss of a young life is always tragic, but of such a kind soul?
"Ano…Itsuki…you still sad about this?" A soft, gentle male voice broke the silence.
Itsuki cried out as he whipped around, beside himself with shock at the sudden interruption. Two birds nesting in the trees above took off in fright at the panicked scream that erupted from the podgy young man; he flailed as his voice echoed about the rocks surrounding him and his car.
"Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta…" He stammered, trying to find the words he so desperately sought after in his state of complete and utter terror.
Staring back at him calmly, almost forlornly, was the ghostly figure he had seen earlier when he raced Itekani down the straight behind them.
"…ta-ta-Takumi!" He finally fell over backwards with a squeak, shaking uncontrollably against the asphalt.
The ghost simply closed his eyes and shook his head. "I'm not going to eat you or anything Itsuki-san, calm down."
He whined softly as he forced himself to do as he was asked. Though his bottom lip was still quaking, he stood up despite himself and faced the apparition before him. "Takumi…is it really you?"
The ghost nodded solemnly and sighed. "I didn't think you'd have to ask. I don't look that different, do I?" To be sure, he glanced down at his clothes and his hands, outspread and facing towards his face.
Itsuki shook his head 'no' violently. "N-no, not at all…" He could still feel his body vibrating with nervous energy…was it still fear, or something entirely different? "I just…I just…I wasn't expecting you!"
Takumi simply stared blankly at him, then sighed. "Well, I've been here every single time you raced down this way…why didn't you see me before?"
"You…you were here before?" Stammering, Itsuki continued to attempt forcing himself to calm down. "I mean…I've never seen you…I thought…I thought…"
He knew exactly what he was trying to say. "Itsuki, I am dead." Funnily enough, it seemed like he was simply stating the colour of the Levin behind him…as if it were a meaningless detail.
It struck a nerve with Itsuki however, who was visibly biting back tears the moment the comment was made. "I thought so…I mean, I know…but does that mean you're a…a ghost?"
"I think so." Takumi shrugged, then sat down on the Armco. Despite the moonlight being masked by the thickening clouds, he seemed to have an eerie glow about him. It was almost as if he was being lit by an alternative source of light. Itsuki couldn't help but notice there was a translucency about him; he could see through him to a small degree.
Itsuki made an attempt to break the nervous tension. After all, ghost or not, this was his best friend he was with. "I preferred you as a petrol station attendant."
Takumi smiled faintly. Oh yes, he remembered those days. How long ago was that? Years, wasn't it? "Me too." He sighed softly, staring at his toes as he shuffled them against the tarmac. "No one stops here anymore…"
"I do. I mean…I did…this time, I mean…" Itsuki forced a smile too.
The expression on the ghostly face wasn't a smile of happiness, that was for sure. If a sad smile were possible, he was wearing it. "Sankyuu. Ano…it's kind of lonely up here."
"Really? I guess you're right. Isn't there anyone else to talk to?"
Takumi gave Itsuki an incredulous look. "I'm the only one that's ever died on this pass, Itsuki." A soft sigh, and he returned to staring at his feet. "No one ever stops."
The heavier-set of the pair sat himself down on the Armco too. "Well, if you like, I can stop here more often." He smiled at his friend warmly.
Takumi's hazel eyes lit up for a moment, but fell once more after some thought. "I don't want to inconvenience you Itsuki. I mean…you have a life to live. I'll bet you have a good job now, and a nice girlfriend…"
He blushed and shook his head. "Nah, not me Takumi! I'm still as single as ever…and my job is a crappy day job anyway, no one cares…"
"Ano…" Takumi paused mid-thought and sighed, resigning to a simple soft smile. "I've really missed you." For just a moment, one could almost assume he felt a twinkle of happiness. Could ghosts even feel happiness? "How's everyone else? Does Project D still race?"
Itsuki shook his head. "Hm…iie. Ryosuke is at Medical school now, and Keisuke is studying at a mechanics college. They both gave up racing, from what I heard. Itekani-sempai and Kenji-sempai both have office jobs now, only Itekani-sempai races…and I think tonight was his last race too. All the other teams…they're gone, too. Everyone's grown up."
"So that's why I don't see anyone coming down here properly anymore." With a sigh, Takumi leaned back to stare at the passing clouds. They were growing thicker by the minute, the only thing illuminating the area being the intermittent flashes of the Levin's hazard lights. "If only that Gaijin hadn't hit me…I would have made sure the racing scene stayed alive…"
Itsuki swallowed a growing lump in his throat. He'd kept on trying to convince himself that no, Takumi hadn't died. He'd simply gone away for a while. "Takumi, what happened there anyway? No one knows the real story…except you of course."
He shrugged. "I don't really remember. I've sort of forced it out of my mind. All I know is it kinda hurt."
"Kinda hurt? Kinda hurt…?" Itsuki blinked a couple of times, then whipped around to face him. "Are you sure? Like, it didn't just tickle? Because I saw you when they pulled you out…I barely even recognised you!"
The ghost winced and rounded his shoulders in sulkishly with a sigh. "I remember getting lots of glass in my face. There were a few things sticking into me, I think it was bits of door card and tree. I think there was an angry man yelling at me too…but I don't really remember. Think it was that Gaijin that ploughed into me."
"The government had that guy deported two years ago…went back home and got manslaughter, I think."
The latter of the information seemed to have little to no impact on Takumi. "Wait…two years? Two years! I've been dead two whole years?" He stared at Itsuki unblinkingly. "Has it really been that long?"
He nodded. "Yep, two years and three months now."
"That'd be why you look all grown up now…" Takumi smirked. "Unlike me, I still look like a highschool kid I bet."
"Nah. You look a bit older than that. Same as you did when you were racing those old geezers all that time ago."
"I remember those days." That sad smile crossed his translucent features once again. "You have no idea how much I wish I could have just…grown. There were so many people I had to out-run…so many more techniques I wish I could have learned…"
A clap of thunder rolling in from the distance interrupted him. The wind was still steadily picking up and the temperature dropping just as swiftly. "Uh, Takumi…"
"Hn?" He raised both eyebrows as he glanced over to his shorter, rounder friend.
"I should be going now." He stood, heading towards his car.
Takumi's features had the hint of a smirk upon them. "You're not scared of thunder are you, Itsuki?"
"Whaa?" He spun around, surprised and almost offended. "No! I just…" Spluttering, he once again hunted for the words he needed. "Well to be honest with you, I've had enough freaky shit for one day. Ghosts and all…you probably took a good few years off my life earlier!"
"Well, okay." Takumi stood too, that forlorn look of his threatening to break Itsuki's heart. "But you'll come back sometime, right?"
"Of course…" Itsuki saluted his friend enthusiastically, then made his way towards the Levin. "You're my best friend after all. Can't have you being all lonely up here and all…" As he slid into his seat, he looked up at the ghost who was no standing by his door. "Besides…I guess it's kinda cool having a ghost as a friend."
Takumi smiled softly. "Thanks. And Itsuki…"
"Hn?"
"Ano…" He paused in mid-thought once again. What to say…tell his friends he said hi? Tell the Takahashi brothers that Takumi said to keep racing? Tell the other teams to get their lazy butts back to Akina? Tell his father he misses him? No. Inappropriate. "Never mind. Just don't forget me."
"Of course I won't forget you…" Itsuki smiled widely as he started his engine, then pulled away from the side of the road. After killing the hazard lights, he waved his arm out the window at his ghostly friend.
Takumi watched the white Toyota leave. Thunder took the place of the turbo whine from the Levin, which had completely disappeared into the depths of the mountains within a minute or so.
He was alone again. Oh, how familiar…night after endless night left wandering the mountains in search of…
What was he searching for anyway? His car was ruined, his friends had all moved on with their lives, and no doubt his father had done the same.
With a sulkish sigh, he sat down by the dead tree in a mess of long, slender limbs. Looks like it was going to be another spectacular summer storm…the only form of entertainment around here it would seem. What a pity that accident had been; after spending a short while with Itsuki, Takumi had plenty to reflect on.
Even Itsuki himself looked like he'd moved on, all but forgotten. He was older-looking, and Takumi certainly couldn't see why he was still single. Hell, that brought a painful thought…Takumi had died without experiencing anything more than holding hands and a good snuggle. How pathetic, he thought to himself. How cliché.
The storm finally arrived, though the young ghost was not at all affected. The landscape around him very quickly flooded from the sudden and voracious deluge, but he didn't feel a single drop. He was, after all, dead. It was probably nearly three in the morning by now – with this sort of rain, there would be no more traffic. No more people to stop and talk to him…not that anyone would, anyway.
With nothing else left to do, Takumi dragged himself to his feet and proceeded to do the usual.
Walk up and down the mountain pass in search of…something. Anything. There had to be more to existence than just this – even for the dead. Wasn't there supposed to be something beyond Earth?
Perhaps one of these days, he might find his answer.
